


precious things drowned in a deep sea of black under a blue sky

by arealrowdydirtyboy



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen, Short One Shot, this is just really kinda sad and im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26613454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arealrowdydirtyboy/pseuds/arealrowdydirtyboy
Summary: introspection of illumi's relationship with killua and the way killua has changed throughout the years as well as his behavior and thoughts on his brother.
Relationships: Illumi Zoldyck & Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	precious things drowned in a deep sea of black under a blue sky

Killua had told Illumi he loved him, once.

He was three years old, just old enough to begin his assassin training. It was winter, and they had been enclosed indoors with nothing but the cold wind rattling the doors to the entrance of the manor. Killua had been smiling, cross legged on the floor playing with a toy robot when he got up and approached Illumi seated on a couch watching him play.

Small hands the size of only his palm held out to him and he looked up at him with beaming eyes holding the brightness of blue crystals. Even through the coldness of the dead of winter, they still reflected the sun and beamed its warm prism rays up at Illumi. He had lifted Killua and placed him on his lap, and Killua responded by placing a small pudgy hand on his cheek.

When Illumi grabbed the small hand on his cheek between his fingers, Killua babbled, pink cheeked and happy with the unrestrained expression of joy only a child could manage. “I love you, Illu-nii-nii.” Tired from play, he’d let Killua fall asleep in his arms while he planned for his training, which would finally begin starting the next day. The small bundle of warmth in his arms fought away the coldness felt in the face of winter.

The first time Killua confronted him, he was five years old.

He had long since begun to look at Illumi with fear in his eyes. It’d been a particularly rough training session, with Killua coughing blood on the pavement floor from a hard kick to his stomach, when he lashed out. Something foreign Illumi didn’t recognize beamed bright and honest in tearing blue eyes, and he looked to be caught between reaching forward for an embrace and bitter contempt against him.

Killua charged forward at him screaming, poised to attack, but Illumi easily dodged and landed another blow to his shoulder. Killua cried out in pain, and Illumi felt nothing. He had long since learned to stop feeling broken everytime he beat him for the sake of maintaining the image he taught him to follow. Illumi couldn't understand the tears Killua shed when he got up from the floor because they were not born of pain, rather they looked to be filled with an open and desperate sorrow.

He yelled through the cracking of his voice, “Why do you force yourself to treat me like this? Why can’t you just be nice like you used to? I don't want to hate you, Illu-nii.” Illumi didn't know how to respond to that, not when Killua looked so much like he'd grow to have the same strong face, cold blue eyes, and straggling white hair of the man who depended on Illumi to take charge of Killua's growth. When Illumi said nothing and instead charged at him with another attack, it felt like something broke between them deeper than the bruises and burns he’d inflicted.

Killua had told Illumi he hated him, once.

He was eight years old, and more cold and competent than any of the siblings in the family. When Illumi first felt Killua’s icy stare directed at him void of any warmth or feeling, he knew he would grow up to surpass him and he swelled with pride even when something fragile and precious shattered inside him. Killua was looking at him with dead blue eyes flat the color of a murky sea when he told him like it was a passing, casual fact, “I hate you, Illu-nii.”

It was that moment that Illumi knew he had successfully molded Killua into the assassin he wanted him to grow up to become, and yet he still had much more to go. He had gone to his room right after to clean his needles, and the words echoed in his mind and through the empty hollow of his chest.

His chest felt constricted with a blooming pain he didn’t react to, like roses with thorns cutting his heart and shearing throughout the inside of his body. He’d continued cleaning his needles and prepared to get the debrief for his next mission from his father. Even though it was the middle of summer, Illumi felt cold.

Killua was twelve years old when he ran away from his family with the creature stored away in the basement.

Illumi had gone to Killua’s childhood room before he realized where he was going, and he stood in its center with artifacts of reminiscence scattered all about him. He had opened an unlabeled box of Killua’s things, isolated in the corner of the room, when a particular object glinted from the bottom of the box. He reached until his hand made contact with it, and pulled out a familiar toy robot. Killua’s favorite childhood toy.

“Illu-nii-nii, let’s play together,” a happy voice had babbled once, and Illumi had responded with a flash of a fleeting smile as a small, precious hand linked on the open receiving palm of his own, warming the core of its center. Illumi had chased the flying robot with a purple dragon as the trickle of screeching laughter faded into forgotten memories, stored in a single box isolated from all the others. Illumi did not react to the pain, because he no longer felt it. 

As he left the dusty vacancy of Killua’s childhood room, he took the toy robot with him, held in his hand like his final remnant of untainted memories of Killua's smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself cry writing this and its because i have a lot of feelings about these siblings and it makes my heart HURT


End file.
